


The Hardcore and the Gentle

by dynamicsymmetry



Series: Pacify [18]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Rimming, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4070875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynamicsymmetry/pseuds/dynamicsymmetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl wants to push into some, uh, new territory. And as usual, turns out what's happening in the mind is every bit as important as what's going on with the body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardcore and the Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> Also for Bethyl Smut Week. Praise be. 
> 
> A note: This is additionally the first entry in this series that isn't strictly chronological. It takes place after "You're Dirty and You're Sweet" (#16) but prior to "No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin" (#17). So it's the second time Beth and Daryl have done the daddy kink thing. Just so it's clear.
> 
> Title from Bjork's ["Big Time Sensuality".](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_j3QjRRGZs) Going through a bit of a Bjork phase.

Right after, when Daryl asked her where it came from, she tossed the question back at him. It seemed fair, and more importantly it seemed like he would probably let it go, and anyway she was too dazed and exhausted and fucked halfway unconscious to formulate any kind of coherent response.

But the truth is that none of those things really mattered, because even if she had been fully present and fully cognizant and fully capable of pulling together an answer to a reasonably complex question…

She wouldn’t have been been able to. Because she doesn’t know.

She has no clear idea what made her pick up the razor that day, no clear idea why she did what she did with it. She has no idea what exactly was going through her head as she stood in the shower and worked it slowly over her skin, carefully shaving away tight curls and leaving smooth skin behind, running her fingers over it and shivering. Silky. Silky like the inside of her wrist, like her throat. Warm. Supple when she cupped herself, palm against the last of the hair on her bush - trimmed, neat - her fingertips stroking lightly over her lips, edge of her thumb against her clit. That little nub so much more exposed somehow, almost alarming, the slightest touch pumping heat into her lower belly. That heat everywhere, feeling everything there swelling, and she hadn't been lying to him when she said she touched herself. Took her time, explored. How it felt different. How she could carry herself higher and higher, circling, pressing, parting her lips with the fingers of her other hand and slipping her finger inside.

 _I got my myself_ so _wet. Got my fingers all sticky, Daddy._

Christ, she did. Juices running down her hand. Coming harder than she had in a while. Not even sure how long. In the shower, braced against the wall, snapping her hips forward and deep in herself as she could go, and that was when the word came to her, the _word,_ and it gripped her with genuine fear for a fraction of a second before it sent a whole new wave of pleasure surging over her. Tides flooding in and out, drawn by this particular strange new moon.

_Daddy. Daddy, please, oh God, please make me come._

Slumped, panting and shocked by herself.

It was the first thing she's done since this began that seemed like it might actually be _wrong._

It hasn't mattered how old Daryl is. How much _older_ than her he is. How he... How he literally is old enough to be that. He could. He could be. And bigger, stronger, looming over her, pushing her down, commanding her, setting rules, punishing her when she disobeys.

It's not like that. It's not. She never wanted that. Never thought about it, never. She's not fucked up like that. She thinks, since part of her brain was ruined and she embarked on that long, agonizing journey back into the world, that she _has_ been fucked up in some ways. A little. But it's been okay, because he loves her. Because he's with her. Because they're taking care of each other. Because they're so happy. Because it's so _good._

But. _Daddy, please make me come._

She dropped back against the tile and covered her face with her hands.

But she didn't let it go. Couldn't. Stayed with her, the rest of the day. Whispering - _do it. Try it. See what happens. No one is going to get hurt._ Looking at him, watching him, knowing what he can do to her, _will_ do when the time comes, and finally, finally, seizing her and throwing her to the floor, her scrambling back a little and staring up at him and already soaking her panties, she broke and out it came.

_I'm sorry, Daddy._

And him. Stunned. Fear stabbing through her again, ice pick, icicle, hard ball in her throat. She was ready to say she was sorry, it was a mistake, asking him if he was all right, and that deeper part of her, that whispering voice, heated and aching and desperately hoping he wouldn't stop. Would come to her. Join her here. Walk across this new line with her and find out what's on the other side.

So.

Now they get to do just that.

~

She's home today, and tomorrow he heads out with Aaron for who knows exactly how long, so this evening. Tonight. Somehow she knows it'll be tonight, the first time since the first time, and she's positive when he tells her - before he goes out on the side work detail he's picked up for the day - that when he gets home in the afternoon he wants her shaved, shaved _completely,_ and on the bed ready for him. Knees up, legs spread. Putting herself on display. And teeth against her ear and she knows he means it: _Don't you dare touch yourself._

She doesn't. She doesn't need to. She starts getting wet the second the razor touches her outer lips, her mound, heat flooding into her, and it just gets worse the further she goes - getting out of the shower and toweling herself off, and this is when she can indulge a little, rubbing between her legs for longer than she strictly needs to. Surely that doesn't break any rules.

But no. She moves naked into the bedroom and stands for a few seconds, the last of the water drying cool on her skin, her hair still damp, the afternoon sun streaming golden through the half open blinds.

Their bedroom is so bright. It fills her, new heat borne simply of how right it feels to be here, and how right it feels to be like _this,_ and she still doesn't fully understand but right now she doesn't need to.

She can feel the slick wet on the insides of her thighs. Almost dripping. _Daddy._ Daddy's cock in her pussy. Already she's sliding into it, like a gentle slide into a soft bed.

So the bed. She goes to it, lies down, spreads her thighs and pulls in a breath and waits.

He's late. By the time she hears him downstairs the sunlight is a deeper gold, nearly the color of honey, and she's sure this is intentional on his part. Making her wait longer, making her want it, desperate for it. His heavy footfalls on the stairs; her breath stutters in her chest. He's coming and he's going to find her like this, and if what he did to her last time was any indication, she's in for something special.

He doesn't even need ropes or knives. His hands and how they're fucking with each other's heads will do just fine.

Him moving. Into the bathroom; faucet running and shutting off. Down the hall again, toward the bedroom. Toward her. Her cunt is on _fire._ She clenches her hands into fists at her sides, squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn't know exactly how wet she is but she's half certain she's soaking the bedspread under her.

Him in here with her. Moving softly, but he's there, and even if he wasn't making a sound she would be able to feel him. Smell him. How much he wants her. He'll be calm about it, he'll hold back and keep control, but he'll be burning just as high and hot as she is.

The bed dips next to her, bare skin against her arm, all that heat so close now, and she lets out a shuddering moan as his lips graze across her brow.

"Baby girl," he murmurs, a soft breath in her ear, and she knows what it is. It's a gentle invitation. He's standing on the other side of that line now and this is an extended hand and a promise - that he'll take care of her, that she'll be safe with him. That she can explore this with him if she wants.

And she can say no if she doesn't.

God, she does. She does so bad she's almost writhing. She bites her lip, opens her eyes and his face is so close above hers, his hand laid over her belly and his eyes somehow both shadowed and shining.

"Daddy," she whispers, and there it is, and he smiles and kisses her brow.

"You do what I said?"

She knows he knows. Knows he saw it the second he walked in. But this is all a game and like every game there are conceits and pretenses, and she nods, teeth catching her lip again, and she's affecting the wide-eyed innocence but she also _feels_ it.

How she wants to please him. And not like usual.

"Lemme feel." He doesn't take his eyes off her face as he glides his hand lower, fingertips light over her smooth mound and a quiet noise gathering in his throat, his lips parting. It's taking every fragment of self-control she has to not lift her hips. "Oh, good girl. God, that feels so perfect." Lower, his fingers ghosting over her lips, barely touching her at all and _certainly_ not touching her clit, and she bites harder. "Huh? That feel good?"

He's almost _cooing_ to her and it's flowing deep and thick and unstoppable into her, filling her chest, making her feel dense. Heavy. She swallows and gives him another nod, closing her eyes again.

"Don't even need to tell me, baby. You're so wet." He nudges her lips apart with a single finger and strokes back and forth, and that density goes liquid. Lead in her veins. "You're _drippin',_ feel that." Lips at the corner of her mouth, soft, not even a kiss. "I'd say you're a slut, 'cept I told you to do this, didn't I? Can't blame you. Wouldn't be fair. And you're bein' so good for me."

"I wanna be good, Daddy."

Small voice, high and breathy. She doesn't even have to think about it, or the words. They're just coming. They're in her, somewhere. Have been this whole time.

"I bet you do."

The tip of his finger stops at her entrance, presses but doesn't slip into her, and she moans again; when he does this her body feels _hungry,_ like she could grab him with her cunt, suck him into her. "Daddy..." She sighs, shaky. _God_ , she wants to touch him. Touch herself. But she can't. He doesn't have to tell her _that._ Some rules apply across all games.

"What?"

"Daddy, _please_... Your finger, please, I want-"

"Tell me what you want, honey." That soft kiss again - her mouth, her cheekbone. "You know I can be nice."

"I want your finger in me. I want... Daddy, I want..." It's never hard like this anymore, never hard to ask for it or to say the word. But she's innocent now. Words like that... Good girls don't use them. Blood rushes into her cheeks and even though her eyes are closed she turns her face away.

"You want it in your little pussy?" Nudging at her. Circling. "You're fuckin' soaked, I know you want it. You ask me, though." His teeth scrape her jaw, light, and she feels his smile. "Ask me nice. Say please."

"I-I want your finger in my pussy. Please. I want... I want you to fuck me, Daddy, please... You make me feel so good."

"I know, baby." Soothing her. His other hand lifts, pushing himself up further on his elbow, and he combs his fingers into her still-damp hair. "I wanna make you feel good. And you been so good for me." And he's sliding into her, achingly slow, his finger somehow thicker and heavier than it should be, and she gasps, clenching around him, and he laughs against her temple.

"So fuckin' tight, honey. I love how tight you are." Deeper, curling upward slightly, and a twinge of sharper pleasure runs through her. "I was gonna make you wait, but your pussy's so nice. You wanna come right now?"

 _Oh._ Without thinking she clenches again, tighter, rolling up against him, and for an instant she couldn't care less about the consequences. "Oh God, _yeah_ , Daddy... Please make me come, I wanna come so bad."

"Been waitin'?"

She nods, emphatic. Waiting until it hurt, because he said and she's good for him. "Like you wanted, Daddy."

"You're such a good girl. Alright. You can." Finger deeper in her, so rough and big, then back and in again and he's fucking her, doing it slow, making her feel every centimeter of him as his thumb nudges her clit, and she can't control herself anymore. He knew what waiting would do to her and she's been walking the edge for what feels like hours, and her whole body is this churning, needy thing with one need only, and as he fucks her she fucks herself right back, rocking to meet his rhythm. Her ears are full of her own labored breathing and the wet, slurping sound of her drenched cunt, and then her mouth is full of him as he tugs her face back to his and kisses her as slow and deep as his finger, and his smile hasn't faded one bit.

It takes her less than half a minute - he must have known that too, and he's so strong and relentless and he has her. Her head snaps back, mouth free of his and opening in a hard groan, and he answers her with one of his own, finger pumping into her, so _big._ Because she's so small and he could break her with one hand.

And he is.

"C'mon, honey. You're so pretty when you come, I _love_ it, you come for me now, sweet little girl-" He swallows her soft cry as she obeys him, thrusting her whole body upward and shuddering against him, fingers tangled in the covers and her legs spread wide and her cunt flooding his hand.

Brief white blankness tingles its way through her head. Then the sound of her own panting penetrates it, his lips ghosting over hers and his finger still working slowly inside her, his gentle murmurs in her ear. That she's so good, she's so beautiful like this, her little pussy feels so amazing, and he pulls free of her and she feels his slick finger pressing against her bottom lip and she opens her mouth without any hesitation and lets him in, moans softly at her own sweet-salt taste.

"You taste so sweet, baby. Go on. Take all you want." He turns it, pushes down on her tongue, encouraging her, and she works it like it's his cock, smiles around his knuckle when she gets another rough groan out of him.

He might play it cool, but he doesn't fool her for a second.

It goes on for a while, long after his finger is clean, and she slips into it and drifts like she does sometimes, lifting a hand at last and closing it around his wrist and holding it there as she sucks. His weight on her tongue, pad rough and calloused, his palm heavy against her chin and his breath warm on her neck, glimpses of his eyes as he watches her.

"Keep goin', baby girl." He rolls himself, cants forward, and she feels the hard line of him against her hip. "You feel that?"

She nods, eyes half closed; she feels it. She feels everything. She's a single humming nerve.

"You did that, baby. That's all for you. You want it?"

 _"_ Yeah." _In my pussy._ She thinks it. Doesn't say, can't say, but she can think it and it doesn't matter that she just came; heat swells in her, _want,_ and she still doesn't understand and she doesn't even want to anymore.

_In my tight little pussy, Daddy._

"You keep bein' good for me, you can have it."

He pulls his hand back and his finger slips past her lips with a soft wet _pop_ , and she whimpers, disappointed, her mouth suddenly so empty and her tongue seeking. He catches it for a few seconds with his teeth, exquisitely careful, as his hand closes over her breast and his thumb finds her nipple and strokes little sparks across her skin.

"You gotta be patient, sweetheart." He squeezes her, just short of pain, fingers digging into her, and she gasps and arches into it. He laughs again. "Turn over."

He lays his hand over her hip and tugs at her - still gentle - and she does what she's told and rolls onto her stomach, forehead pressed into the pillow and her arms tucked under her. She's ready to push herself up, because she remembers what he did before, how he wanted her, how he wants her a lot of the time. Ass in the air and legs spread, presenting herself like an animal so he can _take her_ like an animal, hands gripping her like steel clamps, like claws, shoving and biting at her as he snarls and fucks her into the mattress.

But he doesn't do that. When he touches her it's still so soft, so light, stroking his fingertips down the bumps of her spine and lingering at each one. He's so solid along her side and he's so good to her, her _Daddy,_ and even if part of her is still almost afraid of this, the rest of her is as open and uncoiled as she's ever been. Pliable. Easy.

His hand settles on the slope of her ass and she sighs, lifts herself into his palm, because he fits her so perfectly, that curve, covering her like she was shaped to him. Something close to a purr rumbles in his throat and she breaks into goosebumps as he leans up and over her, lips against her shoulder.

"Your ass is _amazin'_ , baby." He cups her more firmly and she's half expecting a slap, but it doesn't come. Not even a gentle one. He just holds her there and she bows herself inward and turns her head, trying to get a look at his face, her hair hanging in her eyes.

Too late; he's already moving, pushing himself up and off the bed, and she lets out a long breath as she hears him stripping off his clothes - whisper of fabric, the quiet clink of his belt. She waits because it's all she can do, and she rolls herself down against the mattress, legs spreading wider, searching for the friction he isn't giving her. If he sees - if he _wants_ to see - he might smack her, might call her a _dirty girl, little slut,_ and that might be just fine, because all this softness is so unlike him, and she's beginning to wonder if there's something else behind this. Something she can't yet see.

Then the bed dips again and both his hands are on her, cupping her cheeks and kneading her - and spreading her.

She hisses and it twists into a hiccup halfway through; it's not just what he's doing. She's a smart girl. She has at least a decent imagination. She knows him and she can anticipate. And she thought there was _something else,_ and now she's all but certain there is.

They haven't gone here yet. Not yet. She was sure, in a distant kind of way, that they would. Eventually. But now...

"Daddy," she whispers, and the last vowel flutters and elongates as one hand slips between her legs and cups her, fingertips against her clit, applying nothing but steady pressure.

"I wanna try somethin', baby," he murmurs. He's close, leaning over her; she can feel the warmth of his breath at the small of her back. "'s gonna feel good. And if it doesn't we can stop. Alright?"

 _Try somethin'._ She shudders, and it's not just his persistent, maddening fingers. This shouldn't be so different, shouldn't be such a step after everything else they've done, but it feels like it _is,_ and her stomach is tying itself in knots, little tremors of anxiety - and yes, she won't pretend she doesn't feel it: hot, excited wanting.

It could feel good. It has to. People do it. People wouldn't do it if it didn't feel good. But...

But he'll take care of her. He always does.

Still trembling, she nods. But his hands tighten on her, nails hooked into her skin.

"I want you to say it."

"Alright," she whispers - no hesitation, the word falling from her mouth, and she pushes herself up slightly and looks over her shoulder, seeing him only in glimpses but seeing enough.

Closer than she thought. Naked and huge and dark, crouched over and behind her like something wild, and when he moves she can see his cock hanging between his legs, head glistening and ready for her, and her lips part as her tongue slides across them. His taste, heady and salt and dark in itself, and she's not sure she'll get it this time but it doesn't stop her wanting it so bad she's just about drooling.

And he does slap her then. Not nearly as hard as he has before, but the sting of it sparkles through the branches of her nerves and she yelps and jerks against his hand.

"Eyes forward, girl. I'm bein' nice now but I don't gotta be." But immediately he's soothing her, stroking the sudden flush where he hit her, and her head droops helplessly between her shoulders as dapples of light edge her vision. "I wanna be nice to you, baby girl. I really do. 's all I ever want, makin' you feel good." The hand on her cunt moving too, stroking her slowly, fingertips nestling between her lips, and he chuckles.

"What the fuck, girl, how're you so wet again?"

She moans - he wants her to talk. He wants her to say it. "You make me wet, Daddy. You... God, you get my pussy so wet."

"Mmhm. But I don't just want your pussy, baby." Both hands on her ass again, spreading her once more - spreading her with _intent_ \- and she knows it's coming a split second before it does, breath tangled in her lungs and her weak moan hooked on her ribs-

And it doesn't come like she thought.

She had been expecting a touch. A finger. Maybe his cock - she needs to be stretched first, she knows that much, so not yet, but he can still tease her, and he _will..._ But not this, so soft and wet and hot, gliding into the crack of her ass and right to-

" _Daddy._ " Almost a cry. She's fighting herself to keep from twisting, shaking, a horrible need to wriggle away from him, and she can't- Oh, and it's _so_ good, and she's tight and loose at the same time, waves of a kind of heat she's never felt before rippling over and through her, his hands pulling her wide and his tongue- his _tongue-_

"Oh my _God_." Her hands clench, unclench, in the sheets and the pillowcase and her own hair, pulling, sweet needles of pain flying to meet the bizarre, merciless pleasure he's giving her, and he isn't _stopping._ Like he's loving it, licking her this way, licking her _there,_ and how can he. _How_.

It stops as suddenly as it started and she whines high in her throat, yanking at her hair, sound sharpening when he kisses her tailbone.

"Y'alright, girl?"

"Daddy, you." She's sobbing, eyes squeezed shut and stinging with tears. A Beth Greene who shouldn't exist anymore is rearing up inside her and protesting - gaping and horrified - that it's _filthy,_ what he's doing, so filthy and so bad, and it's even worse that it feels so good, that she wants him to do it _again_.

He hums against her skin. He sounds very happy. "Use your words, baby."

"It's dirty," she breathes - not even a whisper. Barely there. She can't put anything else behind it but air, and saying it at all, saying it to him, is shame hitting her from a whole new direction.

"Oh, baby girl. No, it ain't." He licks her again, slow and deep, _presses_ with his tongue, and she squeaks and mewls, hips twitching far beyond her control. "Does it feel good?"

 _It shouldn't_. But she can't lie. He'll know if she lies. She moans thickly, arches back against him. "I... It..."

His teeth scrape against one cheek, threatening a bite. "Tell me. You can do it, honey."

So gentle. Encouraging. She feels something in her breaking open, something that already _did_ break such a long time ago, and she twists herself up and stops fighting the shame and _feels_ it, its heat and its fire in her blood, how bad and filthy and _wrong_ this is, and she's calling him _Daddy_ and she loves it, every part of it, and she shouldn't be able to feel herself flooding wet with such utter visceral intensity but she can.

"It feels so good." She drags in air; she'll be good for him, say it, give him what he wants, get what _she_ wants, she will. "It feels so good, Daddy, it feels _so..._ " A weak, fragmented noise escapes her and she rolls again, undulating, _bitch in heat._ "Please, Daddy, I _want_ it, I want more, please..."

"Please what?"

" _Please._ " She has no idea how to even phrase it, what words to use, though she knows they're there. They have to be. "Please, please..."

He sighs. He sounds impatient now. "Ain't givin' you nothin' unless you can say it, honey,"

 _Oh, fucking hell._ "Please- Lick my _ass_ , Daddy." It comes out in a whine that's edging toward a wail, and she presses her face into the pillow, cheeks burning.

"That's my good girl." And he does and it's an _assault_ , long swipes and swirls, circles, dancing down almost to her lips and back again, and it's so slick and hot and she's imagining his spit running down to her already dripping cunt, and every muscle is a vibrating fist, and her clit is burning and throbbing and _aching_ and he won't touch her there.

Muffled in the pillow, she's dimly aware that she's saying things - sobbing them, pleading with him, begging for him to stop and not to stop and touch her and let her _come,_ and she hadn't even realized that she wanted to but it's overwhelming, unbearable, and she raises her head and keens.

"Daddy, my clit, my clit, God, Daddy, _please-_ "

She's not even done with the last word before he's giving her his fingers, rubbing fast and hard and so perfect, and she comes with a scream, up to his mouth and down to his hand and caught between and clenching fistfuls of her hair, and through it all he keeps licking her, his tongue dipping down and down to her cunt to lap up her juices as she soaks herself all over again.

She drifts again, lowering herself, joints unglued. She's aware of him moving again, crawling back up her body, pressing himself against her. She's aware of his cock trapped against her hip, so hard - wet with precome, with how much he wants her. She's aware of his hand creeping back down, fingers pressing back in, one fingertip finding her and pressing so gently, firm when her muscles tighten against him. He circles, presses again, strokes up and down her cleft.

And she _is_ looser. She can tell he could loosen her even more.

"Sweet little girl," he whispers. Kisses her temple. "I'm gonna fuck you. I'm gonna fuck your ass. You know that, right?"

Almost dreamily, her vision half obscured by the tangle of her hair, she nods.

"I'm gonna do it slow. I'm not gonna hurt you, baby girl. I promise, I'm gonna make you feel so good." He kisses her again - her cheek, so soft on her mouth, and she murmurs something that isn't really a word.

She believes him. It will. He will. "Okay, Daddy," she breathes, and when he angles her face and kisses her next it's slow and deep, and it goes on for a while, and it feels like every single thing he's doing to her is with the single aim of evaporating every single one of her bones.

The he's releasing her, gone again. When he comes back he's doing something she can't see, and before she can lift her head and find out what it is his fingers are in the crack of her ass and they're slicked, slippery, one tip nudging coaxingly at her.

"You gotta relax, baby. Just relax. It hurts, you tell me. I'll stop." He kisses her shoulder and she can feel that he's trembling too, in his muscles, his breathing - maybe with how much he wants this.

Maybe he's as nervous as she is.

But he doesn't sound nervous. He sounds calm, strong as he ever does, and listening to his voice is like being in his hands and she curls into it and nods. Bit by bit she finds the warm core of her gone liquid with so much pleasure, and she sinks down and floats again.

"Breathe, sweet girl," he murmurs, and his finger slowly - God, so slowly - pushes into her.

Her breath catches behind her teeth as he does, stutters, and it feels so _strange, bizarre,_ not wrong but maybe her body isn't meant for this, maybe it's... But she smooths it out. Puts it away. It doesn't matter. Because he's kissing her shoulder again, nuzzling her, and no: it doesn't hurt. There's a stretch, the slightest burn, and a vague and not at all unpleasant sense of _invasion,_ but that's all. That low shame is back and gnawing at her, but it's not hurting her either, and as she feels herself opening and as he pushes deeper and deeper into her she sighs and turns and tucks her head under his chin.

Like this, doing this... She always sort of thought that, when they finally did, together they would make sure it didn't hurt. But she never would have believed she could feel so protected.

"Oh, Daddy," she whispers, and he kisses the crown of her head as he pulls back just as slow and presses in again.

"My good girl." He pauses, motionless inside her, and experimentally - curiously - she tightens around him. That burn intensifies but there's still no pain, and he makes a sound snagged between a laugh and a groan.

"It feels good, Daddy." Thoughtful, and definitely dreamy now. It does. She's not sure how, not sure how to explain it, but it does. Nothing like when he's in her cunt, not those searing, spiraling bands of pleasure, but good. "It..." She shifts under his hand, shivering when he moves with her. "You can... Lemme feel it. Daddy, like you... If you..."

"Like fuckin' you, baby?" A little faster now, his finger slides back, pushes in, back and in, slow enough that she can catch her breath but not so slow that she misses what's happening to her. He's fucking her, yes, fucking her ass with his finger, and she arches her back and moans as _good_ starts to transform itself into _better._ "Like that?"

"Like that... Yeah, Daddy, just like that." She wants to laugh, starting to move with his hand, slow and easy as him but knowing she could go faster. "I want... God, I want it..."

She doesn't even know. _It._ This. Him.

"You want me to fuck you, little girl? You gonna take my cock?"

"Yeah. Take all of you." Slipping into this rhythm too as he fucks her - the words, the pounding, roaring images, the way they make her feel, so dirty and sweet, a filthy slut and Daddy's good little girl and both of those things are so true as her voice floods her own ears. "Take your big cock in my... in my ass, I can take it, I can..."

"I'm gonna help you." He pulls back, pulls out entirely and leaves her feeling so weirdly empty, and she hears what sounds like him squeezing something out of a bottle. Then he's back - cool and freshly slick - and pressing in again. "Can you take two fingers, honey? Can you take 'em for Daddy?"

She can.

It's just as easy, just as slow if not even slower, and like before it doesn't hurt, though the stretch is more intense and the burn flares for a fraction of a second, and she groans and squirms a little and he stops moving, waiting for her to adjust to him, murmuring to her. She's so good, she's his good girl, this is all for her, she has all of him and he's hers and it's so _good_.

So dirty. But it's not. She angles herself higher, opening wider - sensing even though she's never done this before what might feel the best. So maybe yes, maybe it's dirty and she's a dirty girl for wanting it, but maybe that's part of why it's so wonderful to lift her ass into the air like what he calls her - _bitch in heat_ , wanting only to fuck and be fucked - and why it feels so good to loosen and relax and take him in as he slides his slippery fingers into her and promises her what's coming.

Why it feels so good to lift her own hand and reach back, find his, trace his fingers down until she comes to where they enter her, and just _touch,_ gasp sharp and raw as her fingertips trace the tense ring of muscle that he's pushed his way so gently past, feeling all that sweet, slick heat.

Not enough.

"Touch it," he murmurs. "Yeah, girl... Touch yourself like that, feel this." Pushing deeper, deep enough and back fast enough that she bites her lip to stifle a cry - and it's not pain, even now. "Feel how tight you are. Fuck, baby, I dunno if you can take my cock. You're so fuckin' _tight_ , I don't wanna hurt you."

"I can, Daddy." She settles her hand over his, awed again by how big he feels, just his _fingers_ , but she's taking him, stretching for him, fucked open and panting for more. "I really can, let me-"

"Get your hand on my cock, baby."

She hesitates but only for a second - there's nowhere else she can imagine wanting her hand to be right now than exactly where it is, but he tells her that and she's torn, aching, and the angle makes it impossible to do both. She caves with a quiet moan of disappointment and lifts her hand away from his, slips down between them, closes his fingers around his shaft and moans louder when he throbs, skin silky as hers and blasting heat against her palm.

"That's good." He sighs, rocks into her fist. "Just like that, baby girl. You wanna take that? You want that in your ass? Really think you can?"

"I do. I really do. Daddy, please..." How she got here she's not sure, but he's fucking his fingers in and out of her with quick, regular thrusts, and every one is like a lighthouse beam of pleasure swinging through her. "You're so big, but I can- God, I can. I can, please fuck me, Daddy, I _need_ you...."

"Can't say no to you, girl. Not when you're like this. Fuck, just look at you, you fuckin' _love_ this, you're so fuckin' beautiful..." For another moment or two he doesn't stop, simply increases speed, fucks her even harder, and she's wriggling, moans almost frantically, knotting in her throat, her hand seeming so little as she squeezes what he's going to put inside her.

In her ass. She's such a dirty little girl, even if he won't say it, and she's raising her ass into the air and yes, she loves it. She loves it so much.

But then he pulls his fingers back, pulls them out, doesn't return them, and her moans thin into neediness- and then into faint surprise as he takes her by the hips and turns her. She was sure they'd be doing this mostly like she was before - on her stomach, on her elbows and knees - but he's flipping her onto her side facing away from him, pulling her back flush against his chest, his cock nudging against the crack of her ass and his arm around her, hand rising over her ribs to palm her breast.

"You just keep doin' what you were doin', sweetheart. Just relax." His mouth against the knob at the top of her spine, open, tongue flicking against her. She suddenly doesn't know what to with her hands and she gropes at him, at his hip, but he takes her wrist and lifts it away, presses it down against her belly. "Play with yourself. Slow. C'mon, get your fingers on your clit. I know you know how."

She does, and she's not ready for it, somehow hadn't realized how close she was already; she's _so_ wet, slick all over the insides of her thighs, her smooth lips sticky, and she shudders when her fingertip grazes her hard little nub. "What if I come, Daddy?"

"Think you're gonna?"

"I'm real close. I'm-" She circles and gasps sharply, whole body rolling. "Daddy, I don't wanna be bad."

"Jesus, baby girl, you're not gonna be bad. I know you can't help it." A soft kiss against the shell of her ear, his fingertips sliding up her forearm and then withdrawn, and he shifts back from her and she hears the bottle again. "You go ahead and come if you need to. But don't you-" He stops, breath tensing, and she feels him, the head of his cock wet in the crack of her ass, and his slight back and forth strokes as he lines himself up. "Don't you stop if you come, you just keep goin'. Oh... Sweet girl, I wanna be in you so bad. Lift your leg up for me. Hold it there."

He lays his hand under her thigh and she follows his direction because she can't not, her fingers rubbing in firm circles, and she only clenches a little as she feels him pressing against her and then _into_ her, the tiniest bit of her body's resistance and then he's inside and filling her up and so deep all at once, and the stretch and the burn collide with the wonderful heat gathering in her cunt and send her flying over the edge, somehow not twisting up but loosening even more, shaking and sobbing and finally limp in his arms.

" _Fuck,_ little girl, that's so good." He sounds strained, barely holding on himself, and for the moment he's not moving anymore except to take hold of her thigh again, opening her wider. "Didn't say you could stop, though. Keep goin'. Mind me."

 _Oh._ "Yes, Daddy," she whispers, and somehow she gets her fingers working again, sharp whimpers bleeding out of her when she touches her oversensitive clit - it almost hurts, but she already knows he won't care, knows that's the point. He hasn't _really_ hit her, hasn't pinched or even really bitten her; he's not going to hurt her that way this time.

But he's not going to be _completely_ nice to her.

"Good girl. Ah, _shit_ , you're tight." Finally he does move, a single slow thrust, and a small cry bursts out of her - still not pain, but that _stretch,_ not the muscle itself but something deeper, how _full_ he makes her feel. How he's never been this big inside her even when he was inside her for the first time. "Y'alright, baby? How's that feel?"

"It's good." Her hand is shaking but she grits her teeth, determined, and anyway half lost in what his body is doing to her. The burn in her clit isn't really all that important. "It feels so _good_ , Daddy, I love your... cock, I love it so much... God, you feel... "

"Not too big for you?"

"No, Daddy, you're... You're so perfect, I love it. Oh- Daddy, please, give me... Give me more, I'll be good."

"Y'already are, sweetheart." A pause for a second, just a second, and then he starts to move in earnest - an easy rhythm, smooth and unhurried, and her mouth falls open as she bends her back and gasps.

It's not like his finger. Not like his _fingers._ It's so thick, huge, deep in her, the full force of him even if he's not making her feel it all, flowing into her with every thrust and glowing in her nerves like strands of Christmas lights. Somehow her fingers are still working her clit but she hardly notices them anymore; it's all him, his cock in her, how small he makes her feel like this, how he breaks her down from the inside out.

"Oh God, girl." Rough, sharp-edged, that same strain, same grating need, and the walls he built to contain it are crumbling. She can hear it. "You feel so good, baby, you're so fuckin' incredible... Feel that." He snaps his hips forward, deeper than before, and she doesn't try to stop her low cry. "Feel how hard you make me. Christ, you make me want you so much, you got no idea how long I been thinkin' about your tight little ass..."

"Daddy, I-" Everything shatters, burns, reforms in her head in time with her circling fingers. "It's all yours, Daddy. Take it, I want you to... I wanna be your good girl, I wanna be good for you, I... _Oh_..."

"Holy _fuck,_ you _are._ You're so good, baby. Look at you, look at how perfect you are, Jesus _fuckin_ ' Christ..." He growls, finds more speed and buries himself in her, over and over, and _still_ it doesn't hurt, and in fact she can feel that heat returning between her legs, gathering, fucked into her. "I'm gonna come in your ass, honey. You want that?"

"Oh-" The sound she makes is too high and sharp to be a moan, to be anything she has a name for, her neck craned and her lips open and wet against his jaw. It's all a blur of light and noise, nothing in focus, except how much she wants _that,_ exactly that, so filthy and sweet and perfect. "Yeah. I want it, Daddy, I want your hot come in me... Give it to me, oh my _God_ , gimme _all_ of it, please-"

"Ah, _fuck._ Here it comes, girl." He was gentle but now he's not, slamming into her, every motion sliding into chaos, and she's right there with him - rolling her hips against him, her ass, her fingers, her heaving breaths and her mouth desperately seeking his. "Gonna give it to you, good little girl, my sweet baby, take it all-"

It's hard, kissing at this angle, but he does - his body wrenches against and inside her as he turns and seals his mouth over hers, teeth sharp on her lips and her tongue, forcing into her and forcing even harder when she opens to receive him. She can _feel_ him pulsing inside her, shaking as it takes him and he floods her, and he's not _Daddy_ and she's not his _sweet baby girl_ \- it's just them, every wall coming down and every mask tearing off, and she realizes she's there with him, coming in a smaller, slower wave but buoyed upward by it, shuddering in the cradle of his body and washed beyond the last of her words.

She didn't know it would be like this.

She probably shouldn't be surprised.

~

He's still inside her when she slowly returns, so it can't have been all that long. She's buzzing everywhere, her head full of lazy summer bees, so much sweetness, her blood a low rhythmic thrum in her cunt and her clit, her legs fallen and tangled with his and his arms around her. He's not moving but he's whispering to her, whispering like he does - praise and endearments and adorations - except it's not over yet. Because he's still calling her those wonderful names. _Honey, sweetheart, baby, oh my little girl, I love you._

And she's content for it to continue. Very. Even when he shifts and slides out of her and she feels a sudden and profoundly strange emptiness, she's content.

Slowly the movement comes back as well and he strokes her, runs his hand down to her hip, back up her side, fingertips trailing over the side of her breast as he scatters slow kisses over her shoulder and neck.

"Y'alright, baby girl?"

Her smile is completely unbidden and uncontrolled, a whole new wave of easy warmth spreading through her. "Yeah, Daddy."

"You liked that?"

She nods. Once is all she can manage. "Mhmm."

"Good." His hand, so big and rough and gentle with her, between her legs now and circling idly over her mound - and she knows why. She was already boneless but she feels herself dropping deeper into it, relaxed even beyond a doze. She sighs and a softly delicate shiver washes through her when his teeth graze her throat. "Love how good you are for me."

But there's a pause and she can feel something else coming, and then he _does_ bite her, not hard but hard enough to jerk a gasp out of her, and she feels him grinning as his nails dig into her hip.

"Think maybe you could be bad sometime, though. That'd be good too."

She laughs - shaky. Breathless. Yes, she could. It would be. She knows that. "Yes, Daddy."

It comes to her in the last flickers of her coherent thought, a fragment from a childhood that happened to someone else, and she laughs again, so comfortable and safe and wrapped up in her Daddy, who loves her more than he'll ever be able to say, and who can hurt her just how she likes and make it feel so wonderful.

_When she was good, she was very very good._

_But when she was bad..._


End file.
